A Stolen Wedding
by Redderhead
Summary: This is a silly fic - because I think we need some sillyness. Its really long because I forgot to stop typing...Johnlock goodness I'm afriad! Please read responsibily.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! Didn't think it would be that long before I fired out another one did you? This one has been an ongoing project, so I really hope it makes sense!_

_And, needless to say, I own nada, nout and nothing._

A Stolen Wedding

**Chapter 1**

"Judging on the pattern of the broken glass and the shape of the smallest shard; the window was smashed by a brick, Stock I would say. Probably from that building site around the corner." Sherlock said thoughtfully as he replaced his glove onto his left hand.

"Where is the brick now?" Lestrade asked in wonder as he looked about the jewellery store a little bemused.

"Not here?" Sherlock offered with a smart smirk. "No finger prints though" Sherlock continued as he looked toward Anderson with distaste.

"Anything else?" Lestrade asked in an almost pleading tone.

"Nope. They were obviously thorough, I like the thorough ones, don't you, John?" Sherlock asked, his mouth popping around his words neatly.

"Sherlock" John warned absentmindedly as he played with the inscription devices in the corner.

"Sorry, Lestrade, looks like this is an unsolved one" Sherlock said with a sarcastic 'oh dear' expression on his face.

John's head snapped up at that, he stared, open mouthed at his flatmate and colleague.

"Unsolved?" John repeated "Sherlock, it was only a break in, surely you can look a little harder and find a strand of hair or something?" the physician asked naively.

Sherlock opened his arms wide; "Be my guest, John, the floor is yours. I need to head off anyway; left my pastry cutters at the crematorium." Sherlock said dully as he pulled his coat around him impressively and opened the door of the shop to exit onto the street, John mused that this was rather a pointless exercise considering the large hole in the wall that used to be a window.

Lestrade and John exchanged an expression of woe before John returned his attentions to the drill bits on the inscribing machine; there were two neatly fallen mounds of metal dust underneath the drill pieces. John asked Lestrade for an evidence bag and scooped a little of the dust into it before tucking it neatly in his jacket pocket.

"Was anything taken?" John asked the shopkeeper who sat a little deflated on the work bench at the back.

"No, no, I don't think so. Everything has been moved and it will take time to catalogue everything. There _was_ something a little odd though…" The man said thoughtfully. John watched on as the shop keep leant over to hit a button on the till, the cash drawer popped out to display two crisp fifty pound notes tucked neatly in the appropriate plastic tray.

"That cash register gets emptied at the end of each day. Won't be enough to fix the window up though" he said sadly.

John caught Lestrade's attention and showed him the cash register.

"Anderson" Lestrade called. "Get these tested for prints" he ordered as he looked around the shop once more. "Got anything else, John?" he asked tiredly.

"Well, something isn't right, that's for sure. I'll talk to Sherlock about it tonight, hopefully he'll know exactly who did it and why" John said with a smile.

Lestrade returned his smile with an offered handshake "Thanks, John".


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"There was a hundred pounds in the cash register, Sherlock" John said incredulously. "This wasn't just some petty theft; this was someone who has fifty pound notes, this was someone who knew how to use the machinery…smashing the window doesn't exactly fit" John said thoughtfully as he sat motionless in his armchair in front of the fireplace.

Sherlock had stopped his attentions on his violin as soon as John had started talking, but he remained at the window – his back to his friend.

"Very good, indeed, John. What else did you see?" Sherlock asked tentatively.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure, but I think this is gold dust, the guy must have stolen something, but inscribed it before he left." John said in confusion as he reached for the zip lock bag containing the small amount of metal dust.

"He? you said 'the guy'" Sherlock said, lowering his bow and leaning closer to the window.

"Well, yeah…I didn't think it could be a woman with the plug socket being so high on the wall" John said questioningly, as though prepared for being told he was wrong.

"John, that's, that's _very_ good. You are coming on leaps and bounds" Sherlock said almost sarcastically as he raised his bow once more to tease the strings of his beloved instrument.

"So, what are your thoughts on the case?" John asked tentatively.

"My thoughts?" Sherlock asked absentmindedly over his serenade.

"Yes, I know that you know more about all this than you are letting on" John said, putting aside the little evidence he had.

"Well, obviously" Sherlock stated dully, abruptly stopping his tune to start another.

"Tell" John ordered lightly, frowning at the consulting detective's back.

"I'm rather enjoying your working it out, John. Now, what else did you find?" Sherlock said lightly.

"Well, the jewellery was all moved around, so, the shop keeper didn't know exactly if things had been taken…but there were two indentations in the crushed velvet cloth that I saw. Possibly rings?" John said dismissively.

"John, you are positively on fire today" Sherlock mused with pride.

"So I'm right?" John asked in false hope.

"Of course you are right." Sherlock stated dully.

"So, two rings, gold rings, were taken, and then inscribed" John said to re-cap. "But, why would the same person smash a window and move everything around a bit? To delay being found?" John asked in confusion.

"Two persons then?" Sherlock offered lightly, continuing to play quietly, talking to the window panes.

"Two people, yes. That would make sense. But, still, why would two people do that? The first being skilled, articulate, knowledgeable, the second, seemingly none of the above; setting off the alarms and not taking anything?" John asked again.

"Unrelated perhaps?" Sherlock muttered lightly.

"Yes, yes, _two separate _break-ins!" John said in revelation "What an unlucky shop" he added thoughtfully.

"Unlucky, possibly, but what if the second, less intelligent criminal had seen the first at work?" Sherlock said, finishing his tune with a trill. "And decided to take advantage of an unmanned shop too?"

"No, that doesn't fit. It's almost as if the one that broke the window was, drunk? Drugged possibly? Nothing was taken, just, a broken window and stuff moved about." John countered as he looked thoughtfully at the curly hair adorning his friend's head.

John jumped slightly as Sherlock turned to look down at him.

"John, you are amazing" Sherlock said with a wide smile, dropping his bow to his side once more.

John blushed at the compliment but wouldn't dare counteract it.

After a moments silence, John looked back up to the detective with a frown. "So, where do we go from here? How do we find out who it was?" he asked lightly.

"No need." Sherlock said with a dismissive shake of his head, slightly dislodging the antique violin from his chin.

"What? Why?" John asked incredulously.

"It was me" Sherlock said as he dropped his violin to his side in the same hand as his bow.

John's eyes popped widely. "You – what?" He asked in awe.

"It was me, John. I broke into the jewellers shop to take two gold rings; I inscribed them both and made a dash for it when I saw a drunk pointing at me from outside the street window. He promptly threw a brick through the window in order to 'save the shop from criminals!'." Sherlock explained nonchalantly as he lay his instrument down and used air quotation marks to illustrate his quote.

"You. Stole. Two? Gold rings?" John asked, breathing heavily through his nose and staring unblinkingly at his crazy flatmate. "What for?" He asked in a confused shout.

"I didn't want anyone to know" Sherlock said dismissively. "It was above board, I paid for them; you saw my money" he said before sitting down in his armchair gracefully.

"Sherlock, that doesn't excuse the fact that you broke into a shop." John said patiently, regaining his composure and looking across at his flatmate with a sudden wave of fondness.

"I will not be caught, unless you were to tell on me" Sherlock said with a false pout.

"You know, full well, that I couldn't do that." John said with a smile.

"Couldn't?" Sherlock asked accusatively.

"Wouldn't" John corrected. "Well, at least I wouldn't if you told me why you needed two gold inscribed rings" John asked with a teasing smile.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and jumped from his chair distractedly.

"Blackmail will not work on me, John" the detective said dully.

"Tell me, Sherlock" John chided.

Sherlock paused for a moment to stare down at John, the doctor's heart hammered as he spotted the unusually bright glint in the wolf-like eyes of his best friend.

Something was new.

"Sherlock, what is it?" John asked, turning round in his armchair to show Sherlock he was giving his full attention and concern.

"Nothing, John" Sherlock said abruptly before leaving the room in a swirl of blue dressing gown.

John remained in his seat, surveying the now empty space that his friend had stood in with a confused look.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Two days later, John was travelling home from the surgery when he received a text from Lestrade.

_Another break in. This time a Tailors. SH says he's busy, can you come? GL_

John sighed heavily and sat back against the cab seats in thought before picking up his phone once more;

_Sherlock, what have you been up to? J._

He did not have to wait long for a reply.

_Whatever do you mean, John? - SH_

_Don't play dumb. J._

_I would never do such a thing – SH._

Sighing heavily once more, John called Lestrade.

"Where?" John asked avoiding all niceties of conversation.

"Christ John, you sound like him now" Lestrade chided before telling John where and when to meet him.

00

The place was neat and tidy, there was no broken glass, no fingerprints, nothing to tie anyone to the scene at all.

There was cash in the till as there was with the jewellers and the shop owner was insisting that there were four suits missing.

"Four suits?" Lestrade repeated looking to John.

John was seething, he knew full well that Sherlock Holmes was behind all this and he cringed to think how many people were currently wasting their time trying to find him out.

Playing no-idea was surprisingly easy for John as he didn't answer Lestrade's questions at all well and seemingly came up with nothing on the evidence front.

"Did you get anywhere with the jewellers break in?" Lestrade asked after a while.

"No, not at all, Sherlock seems a little stumped" John lied convincingly. "Did you?"

Greg shook his head dully. "No where at all" he said tiredly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Sherlock Holmes, sit down and tell me what you are up to." John demanded as he stomped up the staircase of 221B.

"I am already sitting down, and I was already talking, as you are already aware; it is not my fault when you don't listen" Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

John's eyes were murderous as he stared across the room at his flatmate currently occupying his usual armchair.

"What?" Sherlock asked after an uncomfortable silence.

"What, is going on, Sherlock?" John asked, his nostrils flaring.

"With whom?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You. Two gold rings and now, four morning suits. What's the game?" John asked standing beside the chair with a tilted head and placing a demanding index finger down upon Sherlock's armrest.

"I am amazed at your stupidity, John" Sherlock said as he stood from the armchair to face the shorter man. "Have you been oblivious to everything? You, the man whom, out of the two of us, is the 'social butterfly'?" The consulting detective said, stooping slightly to be eye level with the soldier.

"What?" John asked in puzzlement.

"Relationships, John!" Sherlock scolded. He then turned away from the physician and walked in a small semi circle to face the living room window.

John's jaw dropped in shock.

"It has been my lifelong study not to give in to Human urges." Sherlock said quietly, biting his bottom lip and tilting his head back to glance at the sky just visible between the two rows of housing. "I have lived a life full of scientific study, of fact and of truth. Then, one day, I meet a man who is not only capable of saving his own life but mine too." Sherlock said still staring at the sky.

John weakly reached a hand for the back of the armchair that was beside him for support as he continued to stare at his flatmate's back.

"He moves in with me – no questions asked, his health improves with my company, we dine out, we sit in, we work together, spend most of our personal time together, finish each others sentences and on occasion sleep in the same room." Sherlock turns now, resting his top half on his hands as he lay them across the back of his leather armchair, now facing John who was doing the same.

"Now, steady on Sherlock, that was in here watching TV – not…whatever you just made it sound like" John faltered as he pointed at the couch in panic.

"That, John, is the definition of a romantic relationship." The detective continued gently, ignoring John's flustering.

"You. Think that we are in a…romantic relationship?" John stated weakly. "The rings, the suits…?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"And the flowers, the refreshments and registry appointment…they must have just not spotted the items missing yet or the items added" Sherlock added dully, but with a smile non-the-less.

"You didn't -?" John asked, mildly amused at this latest piece of information but his face plastered with disbelief non-the-less.

"I didn't want unnecessary people to know, John" Sherlock stated. "It was easy to slip a couple of names into the empty space on a registrar's book when carrying out an investigation involving recent marriages" he said mildly.

"But, Sherlock…we're not…well, I admire you, yes. I live with you, I work with you, I spend all of my time with you…but you are a man, and I am a man. I'm just not…wired _that _way. I don't find men attractive" John said awkwardly.

"Perfectly sound analysis, with one definite flaw" Sherlock stated thoughtfully as he walked around the chair in one stride.

John inhaled sharply as the taller man approached him swiftly.

"What flaw?" John asked in a rather undignified squeak.

"That you are attracted to _me_" Sherlock husked as he lowered his head slightly.

John seemingly panicked now; his eyes blown wide with a mixture of fright, surprise and shock.

"Relax John. As you already know, I am always right" Sherlock whispered just before their lips touched for the first time.

Sherlock smiled against John's mouth when he felt the man relax into the familiar activity. The soldier's arms remained firmly at his sides however, as he reciprocated the kiss with fervour.

Sherlock, having the addictive personality that he does, eagerly latched onto the skills of a great kisser and had John pushed up against their wallpapered living room wall in seconds; whimpering and moaning in sure pleasure as his tongue was massaged by the younger mans expertly.

Breaking apart for only a second, John kept his eyes closed as he reached out his hands to feel his way down Sherlock's subtly strong biceps. He felt the silk of his expensive shirt under his steady fingertips and licked his lips anxiously.

"Open your eyes, John" Sherlock whispered encouragingly, noting with clarity the strand of his own hair that had caught with John's short blonde mop during their intimate activity. He noted that three cars had passed on the street outside, 1 heading north the other 2 heading south. It didn't go unnoticed that his violin had strayed an inch to the left as it rested against the leather of his armchair and that the clock on the mantle had stopped ticking for three seconds.

John opened his eyes as instructed to have his breath stolen from him in another ferocious kiss from the consulting detective, this time with their eyelids hanging heavy but still open; communicating that each man was well aware of who they were with.

John, completely incoherent and extremely aroused by this point had been unable to stop his body from bucking against the taller detective with eagerness. Sherlock's eyes snapped open at the feeling and had to break the kiss to take a step back.

"Forgive me" Sherlock said quietly as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to help him regain composure.

"Sherlock" John breathed as he reached out for the younger man, still leaning heavily against the black and white patterned wall.

"That'll be all for now, John. We'll continue this….later" Sherlock said with a deep breath for emphasis.

John watched in horror as Sherlock attempted to walk off in the direction of his own bedroom and he forced himself from the wall.

"Oh no" John said firmly, still breathing heavily from their passionate display. "_This_ doesn't _wait_, Sherlock." The doctor said, walking towards Sherlock with a look of absolute murderous lust written clearly upon his face.

Sherlock stood straight backed as he realised he had no escape; he didn't move but instead awaited the inevitable turn of role.

"You started this. So you must be ready to finish it" John all but growled as he walked around the detective ready to face him.

"I can't John" Sherlock said with a visible nervous gulp.

"What do you mean _can't?_" John asked, taken aback a little by the detective using such words.

"I am…unsure of the consequences" Sherlock said, looking away briefly before turning his light eyes back to the man in front of him.

"Consequences? Sherlock, you aren't able to get pregnant" John chided with a light giggle that did not in any way fit the current circumstances; John filed it down to nerves.

"John." Sherlock started, obviously deciding to skip the lecture on male anatomy "I have always been in control of my senses" Sherlock said gently, biting his lip once more, John found this very distracting indeed but forced his eyes back up to the detective's, now, alluring ones. "From what I have researched of physical…release, it is not a sensation I wish to feel" he finished truthfully.

John took a step back and stared incredulously at his friend and flatmate.

"So, you organise our partnership, you pre-plan our _wedding,_ you awaken these _feelings_ that even I was unaware of and now you are telling me that we are to be wed without sex?" John asked with mirroring hand movements.

"Yes" Sherlock said with a curt nod and a raised eyebrow. "Not good?"

"Very not good" John stated with a large nod of his head.

"What do you expect me to do about it?" Sherlock questioned nervously.

"I expect you to try it, just for me. If you really…want to be with me-" John said avoiding the four lettered word just yet "-then prove it by trying it." He finished fairly.

"I will do no such thing" Sherlock said firmly.

"Well then" John said in severe disappointment. "The whole thing is off." He said with a clap of his hands against his thighs in defeat before turning to walk back into the living room.

He heard Sherlock sigh heavily. "Alright" the detective said hastily. "I will _try_ it. But if I do not like it in any way; you must not ask me to do it again" Sherlock reasoned, turning to face the doctor.

John smiled, "Not a problem, Sherlock"

"You seem very confident" Sherlock remarked, watching the soldier roll back his shoulders as if assuming responsibility for the situation.

"Oh I am" John said with amusement as he turned back to the detective and walked over to him.

"Why?" Sherlock asked curiously, unable to deduce John Watson's thoughts.

"You are forgetting, Sherlock, that I am a Doctor. I know every pleasure point of the Human body _and _the exact location of the prostate" John said in an amorous whisper that made Sherlock Holmes' cheeks blush a bright pink.

With a slight cough, Sherlock remained straight standing and peering cautiously down at his smug flatmate before speaking once more.

"Now? Or after the ceremony?" Sherlock asked nonchalantly.

"Judging on that blush, I'd say you were ready now" John said, his smug smile extending as he lazily rolled his eyes up and down Sherlock's frame.

Suddenly, John snapped out of it and stood back a step "I'm not…Sherlock, when is this…this…our…wedding?" The soldier asked suddenly flustered.

"I arranged it for Friday morning" Sherlock said deftly, watching his flatmate with interest.

"I'm not gay" John stuttered before fumbling his way back wards and turning at the doorframe to run up the staircase to his bedroom.

"A mental breakdown?" Sherlock asked the skull with a sideways glance at it.

"Do I really have to?" He asked again turning to the inanimate bone structure.

"Ok, ok, no need to shout" The detective murmured before bounding from the room, up the many steps into John's bedroom without so much as a courtesy knock.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Sherlock!" John said in a frustrated and shocked shout as he leapt from his seated position on the bed.

"John, there is no need for this bedroom now. I have already moved all of your belongings into mine" Sherlock said with a dismissive sniff as he walked to the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"So I see" John murmured as he roamed his eyes sadly over his bedside table.

"You are…sad?" Sherlock deduced as he turned to view his prey with some confusion.

"Well, Sherlock, put yourself in my shoes for just one minute" John said tiredly, rubbing his face with a firm hand. "I'm 35 years old, I have been attracted to women my whole life, even when I was in the middle of an Army base, I had no untoward feelings for my colleagues. I feel like I've been set up for an arranged wedding, with a man. I'm so confused…downstairs, just now, I really, really wanted…_you_. And I don't understand how I could not have seen this coming. I feel like I'm one of your experiments!" the Doctor said in frustration pacing his room angrily.

To each man's surprise Sherlock caught hold of John's shoulder as the doctor turned to walk the length of the room once more.

"I am sorry, John" Sherlock started, speaking to John's back. "I should have let you come to your own conclusions."

John turned to face Sherlock with a weak smile. "That may have taken longer than the end of this week Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled; "I allowed time, I assure you. Your deductions from the crime scene impressed me into thinking you had become sharper".

"Not as sharp as you though" John teased lightly.

"I certainly will not force you into anything John. It is only imperative that you stay with me. That was the main reason for the decision to marry you, as it were. So that you would stay." Sherlock said plainly.

John's eyebrows slid backward as he looked up at Sherlock in besotted disbelief.

"Of course I'll stay, Sherlock. Honestly, you call yourself the smartest man on this Earth when really you are the stupidest sometimes" the Doctor said quietly.

Sherlock smiled and looked toward the door.

"Will you?" Sherlock asked with the air of already knowing the answer.

"Will I marry you, or will I stay?" John asked in puzzlement.

"Ideally, both" Sherlock said unabashedly, looking back to John with a stern stare.

John laughed heartily as he looked up at the younger man.

"You are absolutely the most infuriating, impossible and inexcusable friend in the world" the Doctor said with a smile at Sherlock's confused expression. "But damn it all if I don't love you for it".

"I'm confused, you will?" Sherlock asked with furrowed eyebrows.

John looked toward the window for a second in thought before meeting the consulting detective's grey eyes once more.

"Who were the four suits for?" John asked interestedly, changing the subject completely.

"Mycroft & Harry, she insisted upon a suit" Sherlock said abruptly.

"She-she knows!" the soldier almost shouted.

"I had to ask _someone_ for permission, John" Sherlock said blankly.

John now began laughing once more, this time slightly hysterically.

"Yes, yes, yes" John said between laughs, grasping a fistful of Sherlock's purple shirt. "I will stay with you, I will marry you and I will wear the stolen ring" he said with a very wide toothy grin.

"Good, now, John" Sherlock said with a straight face. "My room?" he asked with a sudden raised eyebrow.

John blushed and looked sheepishly up at his flatmate.

"Can we have a cup of tea first?" The doctor asked.

Sherlock let a light laugh escape his lungs before heading toward the bedroom door and consequently the living room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The living room atmosphere was tense as the two men sat in their own armchairs framing the fireplace. Their tea cups were half full and the television was off.

Without conversation, their individual anticipation was building; John allowed his eyes to roam over Sherlock's form from their position above the rim of his teacup.

Suddenly, the two men's hungry and quiet gazes were interrupted by a slam of the front door downstairs.

"Sherlock" Lestrade shouted up the stairs as he bounded up them and into the living room.

John made a leap for a newspaper that was on the floor by his feet and neatly covered his lap with it, desperate to hide what was so obviously his arousal.

"Sherlock, I need your help. There has been a report from a witness who says he saw the break in happen at the jewellers. He says he will be able to identify the guy" Greg explained, looking between the two men expectantly.

"He can't." John said hastily. Sherlock snapped his head in John's direction with narrowed eyes. Taking a deep breath, John looked back to Lestrade "He can't come out just now, he has a fever. As his doctor, I cannot advise that he leaves this house" he said rather convincingly.

"Oh, really?" Lestrade asked in disbelief, looking to Sherlock.

"It is true that I am not feeling myself, Lestrade. You will need to deal with this one on your own." Sherlock concluded, lowering his eyelids for good measure.

"Oh, ok then." Greg said half-heartedly as he looked back to John. "Can you come, John?" Lestrade pleaded.

"He can't, he needs to look after me" Sherlock said with wide eyes.

"Oh for gods' sake, Sherlock, you're in your 30s surely you can take care of yourself?" Lestrade said in frustration.

"Look whose talking" Sherlock replied abruptly.

"Ok, well, take care of him, John" he said with a curt nod of his head. Then he was gone, trotting down the stairs and closing the door behind him.

After a further ten minutes of silence – once they were sure Lestrade had gone, Sherlock got to his feet and straightened out his clothes, nodding once to John before walking past him towards his own room.

John smiled widely as he stood a moment later, unbuttoning his top two shirt buttons before following his flatmate swiftly, he was mentally preparing himself for the best show he would ever have to perform and he was very much looking forward to it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Well?" John asked teasingly as he lay back on Sherlock's tangled bed.

When there was no answer, John looked to Sherlock in worry to see that the man was laying stock still, his eyes unblinking and wide, his mouth slightly open, every now and then a limb would twitch uncontrollably or a shiver would pass through his body.

With slight concern, John reached for the duvet and covered them both with it, laying on his side to pull the consulting detective closer.

"Sherlock" John whispered less than an inch from Sherlock's ear. "Come back to me" John teased with a smile.

The younger of the two spurted back into life with a cough, blinking his eyes rapidly and focussing on the doctor that held him close.

"Was it nice where you were?" John asked gently, running a comforting hand from the dimple in the taller mans' back to his shoulder blade.

Sherlock didn't answer; he simply wrapped an arm around the soldier in reply.

"Well, what is your conclusion? Do I get to do this again?" John asked gently as he stopped his hands' movements just below the dimple and turned his head to press a light kiss to a curly haired temple.

Sherlock nodded into John's shoulder and pressed himself closer to the physician.

"Right now would be most agreeable" Came Sherlock's shaky and muffled voice.

John laughed as he continued his hands' movements.

"Ok, ok, give me a minute or two – I'm a little older than I used to be you know" John said lightly.

000

By the time Thursday came around; John and Sherlock had not separated; spending their mornings in bed, their afternoons in the kitchen and their evenings together on the couch. John was constantly surprised by Sherlock's affectionate behaviour indoors, but as yet did not know what he would be like when they returned to their work.

"Did you plan a Honeymoon?" John asked on Thursday afternoon.

"Honeymoon?" Sherlock repeated with furrowed brow.

"Yes, the well known holiday for newlyweds?" John teased.

"We do not need such a thing…do we?" Sherlock asked tentatively.

"It would be nice to have a holiday don't you think?" John asked thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure that you are aware, John, that beach holidays and I are not the best of friends" Sherlock said dully, resting his eyes back on the laptop screen in front of him.

John smiled widely at the thought of the tall man standing on a hot beach in his suit, probably demanding that they do _something _instead of sitting in the infuriatingly hot climate doing nothing.

"How much money do you have?" John asked nonchalantly.

"I have savings" Sherlock replied absent-mindedly.

"How much?" John asked curiously.

Sherlock turned his head to John with a smirk. "Enough" he said shortly.

"How about a sightseeing holiday? Where have you been before?" John asked, now tucking his feet up and turning his whole body toward his intended.

"Greece, Africa, America, France, Germany, Switzerland, Russia, Ireland and Afghanistan" Sherlock mused in a dull tone.

"Everywhere then?" John said tiredly, but frowning as he realised something "Hang on, Afghanistan?" he asked incredulously "When?"

Sherlock looked uncomfortable for a second or two before; "A case" he replied.

"What case? When was this?" John asked inquisitively.

"Last year sometime, I was not gone more than a weekend." Sherlock shrugged, concentrating on his laptop screen once more.

"Irene Adler" John said in realisation. "You went to rescue Irene Adler!" John accused.

Sherlock blushed a little before standing up to place the laptop on the desk.

"What if I did?" Sherlock countered.

"She's alive then?" John said huffily.

"Actually, no, she was killed in America a week later. I did all that I could, but there were too many upset parties. There was always going to be a threat." Sherlock said looking toward the window with his hands buried in his pockets.

"Oh" John said quietly. "Sorry, Sherlock" he said feeling somewhat small.

"No matter, John. It wouldn't have meant a thing anyway, as I have already explained to you, I was not attracted to _her_. I just hate to see intellect wasted." The consulting detective said as he turned to face his doctor.

"So, do you want me to take care of the Honeymoon?" John offered with a hopeful smile.

"If it will make you happy, John" Sherlock said carefully, showing off his newly learnt relationship and tolerance skills.

"It really will if you come with me" John said with a laugh.

"Use my card. But you are forbidden from taking me somewhere busy, pointless or disgustingly common." Sherlock replied handing John his laptop.

"Not a problem" John vowed as he tapped on the keyboard busily.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"You ready?" John asked as they stood in their quiet hallway.

Sherlock nodded affirmatively and even managed a small smile. John returned his smile before allowing himself to raise his hands to the taller man's neck to fix his purple silk necktie.

"Are you excited for our holiday?" John asked, raising his eyes back to his flatmate's face.

Sherlock scoffed. "I would've hardly been excited about Vienna, John" he said dully.

"How did you know?" John asked a little dejectedly, lowering his hands to his sides.

"Obvious" Sherlock sighed before bending to kiss his soldier. "I hope you don't mind that I exchanged it for another"

John's eyes narrowed. "It was in an account Sherlock, how did you – oh" John said in realisation as he ran a hand over his face. "The bank statement"

"That wasn't the way I discovered what you had booked, John. It was actually the way you behaved after you had booked it that made me realise where you had decided to go. Vienna claims to be the most romantic city in the world; you asked me how I felt about boats and you _cuddled _me tightly." Sherlock explained.

"How did you even, get _that_ from – oh never mind, I better be making the right decision to marry you" John sighed before reaching to open the door.

"Humour?" Sherlock asked with a furrowed brow.

"Yes, Sherlock, it was a joke, now come on" John said with a small smile.

Immediately, their doorstep was photographed and called upon; John leading the way and Sherlock following in quick procession.

"How did they find out?" John said incredulously once they had gotten safely into their awaiting white Jaguar.

"I may…have been responsible for that. I wrote it on your blog" Sherlock murmured, looking out of his window distractedly.

"Sherlock" John warned. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"I was fed up of the attention I get in relation to romantic interest on my website. I wanted to stop it" Sherlock explained quietly.

"But, you said that you stole the rings and the suits because you _didn't_ want people to know?" John said incredulously.

"I changed my mind" Sherlock said bluntly.

John chuckled. "So" the doctor sighed heavily. "Where are you taking me to honeymoon?" he asked changing the subject – determined to be happy on his wedding day.

"Quebec" Sherlock answered shortly.

John's shoulders visibly slumped as he looked out of his window. "Oh" He said sadly.

000

Going into the registry office, John was a little sad to see that the room was bare – with no decorations, flowers or refreshments. He wanted to ask Sherlock why the flowers he had owned up to stealing weren't there in the very least but in that moment, Harry and Mycroft appeared behind them.

"Dear brother, I believe this is the moment that I congratulate you" Mycroft drawled in his oily English accent.

"No need, Mycroft, I have already congratulated myself" Sherlock returned with a smirk.

"You look very handsome" Harry praised her brother as she picked off a speck of white fluff from his grey suit.

"Thanks Harry, you always suited a suit more than me though" John teased in return as he tugged her closer for a hug.

Sherlock and Mycroft watched on at the display of sibling affection with identical facial expressions of horror before they turned to each other and awkwardly shook hands.

"Do you have the rings?" Sherlock asked Mycroft with a weak smile as Harry and John were still locked into a hug.

"Of course, good choice if you ask me" Mycroft drawled with a false smile in return.

Just then the registrar entered the small room.

"I really must apologise, are you the Holmes party?" he asked with a small smile.

Sherlock turned to him and, surprisingly, held out his hand "Yes" he said shaking the hand of their registrar.

"Well, I'm afraid that I didn't know you were coming – you must have been booked in by my colleague – this room is meant to be decorated this afternoon and we cannot use it. Would you be averse to _tying the knot_ outside in our marquee?" He asked hopefully and sincerely.

Sherlock looked to John and read his expression easily. "Of course, that would be most agreeable" the taller of the two said as he turned back to the official.

"Great, follow me" the short man replied with enthusiasm.

As the four followed the registrar down a set of steps and through a utility room of sorts, John shared a dubious glance with his sister before the door was opened.

It took a minute or two for John's eyes to adjust to the summer's day light and once they had, he was aghast at what he saw.

There was a very large permanent white marquee outside the offices covering an area of grass larger than their entire flat at Baker Street, it was decorated with balloons and flowers. There was many chairs spread out and even more people surrounding them; John smiled widely as he spotted Mrs Hudson, Lestrade – sporting full officer's uniform, Molly, Anthea and Stamford among the friendly faces that had turned to welcome them.

After a few rushed hellos and congratulations, the registrar called order and called the couple forward.

Sherlock smiled to John knowingly and reached for his hand.

"Did you do all this?" John asked in a whisper as they approached the table set up at the front.

"It may have been my idea, John, but I did not do it all myself" Sherlock murmured back.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two souls you see before you. This is a happy occasion and they should be allowed to flourish in their obvious love for each other, if there is any person among you who objects to the rights of these two upstanding gentlemen, please leave because we don't want you here." The registrar stated with a large smile as several members of the crowd chuckled lightly.

As expected, the gardens remained quiet – even Anderson kept his mouth closed from his position at the back, much to Lestrade's surprise.

"Do you have vows or would you like to recite the normal one?" The official asked the two men quietly.

John looked up to Sherlock and smiled widely. "I think I'd prefer to say my own" he whispered. Enjoying the look of panic that crossed his partners' face.

"Is that what you want to do too, Sir?" the man asked Sherlock.

Looking at John's hopeful face was enough for Sherlock to nod affirmatively if not awkwardly.

"We now proceed to the vows." The registrar announced, laying a reassuring hand briefly on John's arm to signal it was his turn to speak.

Turning to face Sherlock, John caught the crowd in his peripheral vision but forced himself to think only of his flatmate.

"When I first met you, Sherlock Holmes, you were arrogant, pompous, socially inept and idiotic to boot" John paused here for slight laughter from the crowd. "Five years later, you are still the same man" another chuckle and a ghost of a smile on Sherlock's lips spurred John on. "However, regardless of your many flaws, I have always adored you. Your talent for spotting the things the rest of us don't see is both infuriating and fascinating, but I will always love it. As usual, I was the last to find out that I felt the way I do, but for once, I am completely up to date and intend to keep you in line for as long as we both shall live." John finished. There was a distinct sniffle from Mrs Hudson behind them and a surrounding "Aw" that filled the air.

Sherlock nodded when the registrar tapped his arm in turn.

"John" the taller man started, his voice confident and strong as it always had been. "Against all the odds, you are here with me today. I made the calculations; an 80-20 probability that you would not make it to the alter. But you have always been the one that surprised me John, the only one to put up with me and the only one to take care of me. I know I am difficult at the best of times, and I appreciate you daily, although I might not communicate that often." Sherlock reeled off quickly as if it were a deduction. John's smile grew wider as he listened intently.

"If you will permit me to, I will ensure a lifetime of adventure and danger. I will endeavour to…_love_ you for as long as I live…which technically speaking would be 43.2 years…give or take a couple of months…and days that you interrupt my experiments" Sherlock finished with a small smile toward his flatmate.

Again there was a small round of "Aw" from the assembled group under the tent before the two men looked toward the registrar once more.

"Lovely, do we have the rings?" He asked excitedly.

Mycroft stepped forward then with a silk handkerchief in his palm, he held out his hand and opened the material to reveal two identical silver coloured rings.

John looked questioningly to Sherlock as the taller man took the larger ring from Mycroft's hand and held it up.

"Curious thing white gold; starts life off as pure gold…but when treated with the right chemical, can turn silver, with a gold inlay" Sherlock muttered quietly before taking John's right hand in his own.

"The ring is a symbol of never-ending. A circle represents an eternity loop as there are no beginnings and no endings. Our symbolic rings may suffer dents, scratches and possibly get lost for a short while but they are never truly destroyed. Let this be the truth for the duration of this marriage, with these rings come responsibilities, honour and an eternal love. With this knowledge; repeat after me" the registrar instructed.

"With this ring, I thee wed…" the man continued, allowing Sherlock to repeat at his own pace.

John watched the perfectly sized band fit neatly onto the appropriate finger of his right hand before he picked up the remaining ring and repeated the exercise over but with Sherlock's right hand.

"I now pronounce you legally wed. It's not in the ceremony, but if you would like to seal your promise with a kiss, please feel free to do so, now" the registrar announced.

John frowned as he looked at their ceremony leader before turning to Sherlock dutifully and quickly pecking his lips.

"There, you're mine now" John whispered against Sherlock's lips before he moved away and nodded at the crowd politely.

Sherlock stared at John a little shocked as the soldier seemingly switched his 'social butterfly' operation on and started to talk to a few of the guests. The taller man decided to follow instead of stand alone at the desk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

A few minutes later, the men were called back to the desk to sign their new names.

"I didn't even think about this part, Sherlock. What name shall we take?" John asked hastily as he took the pen that was offered.

"How about…Watson-Holmes?" Sherlock suggested, leaning a hand on the back of the chair and the other on the table as John sat down in the only available seat.

John smiled. "Yes, that fits" he said, looking up at his husband both, approvingly and lovingly.

Once the register had been signed, the two men received three cheers from the crowd before music started and the chairs were removed.

"I know who was responsible for the break-ins" Lestrade said as he approached the newlyweds with his hat securely under his arm.

"Nice, shiny, uniform, Lestrade" Sherlock mused as he looked the detective inspector up and down.

"Steady now, Sherlock, no flirtation in front of your husband" Greg teased lightly. John smiled appreciatively but none-the-less looked awkward at Greg's earlier statement.

"How on earth did you get in, and out without leaving a trace of DNA?" Lestrade whispered disbelievingly.

"What is he talking about, John?" Sherlock asked in false confusion.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to report you. I just want to know" Greg said truthfully.

"I can't imagine what you mean by that, Greg" John said with a wide smile. "Are you accusing my husband of being a thief?"

"To be a thief, I would have to not _pay _for items taken, John. I have never done that in my life" Sherlock said sincerely, drawing himself up with a look of distaste rumbling his sharp features.

Greg sighed heavily. "Congratulations, you two, I hope you realise John, that you two are just as bad – if not worse – than he used to be on his own!" Lestrade said with a light laugh before he walked away toward the refreshment table.

"Champaign?" Sherlock offered as he swiped two glasses from a nearby tray.

"Don't mind if I do" John said lightly, taking the delicate glass from the taller man.

"So, where are we really going on our honeymoon?" John asked.

"I told you, Quebec, John" Sherlock said, shifting feet and looking at the people around them.

"I don't believe you" John stated matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Sherlock asked, his full attention now focussed on the man in front of him.

"I can tell by the right leg of your suit trouser" John bluffed.

Sherlock looked down in bemusement at his pristine grey suit and purple necktie.

"I don't understand" Sherlock said with a raised eyebrow toward his husband.

"Come now, its obvious Sherlock, surely" Mycroft's voice drifted toward them from behind the younger man.

John looked to Mycroft with a small smile as the oldest of the three stood beside him to survey his brothers' suit.

"Yes, I see what you mean, John." He said slowly as he stared at the trouser material. "I would say a small island off the coast of Thailand" he concluded, looking back to John with a sly smile.

"Really?" John asked incredulously, looking back to an infuriated Sherlock.

"Oh yes, it's right there, in that material. See, John? When a professional in the business irons a suit, it is pristine. When a man irons his own suit because he wants to keep the occasion _quiet_, it is usual to miss an area or do an area twice. Sherlock – as we know – is no ordinary person, much like myself, it is obvious however, that at the time of ironing his suit he was re-booking a holiday, see the small wrinkled section on the knee? That is the shape of Thailand." Mycroft finished impressively, tucking his hands together behind his back and looking down his nose at his brother.

"Mycroft, that is the worst lie I have ever heard" John said staring at Sherlock's knee.

"Really? So, Sherlock, where _is_ the honeymoon location?" Mycroft asked confidently.

Sherlock lifted his hand to his mouth to cough awkwardly; slipping the two words "Bunguran Timur" in between the convincing outbursts.

"Bung-where?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, very nice, Sherlock, the island of Bunguran Timur in the South China Sea…off the coast of Thailand. No tourism industry there, John. It will only be the two of you and some local fishermen I'm afraid." Mycroft drawled with a wide smirk before turning heel and walking into the crowd.

Sherlock's cheeks were flushed pink as he looked awkwardly at his feet.

John smiled widely. "I've never been" he said happily.

Sherlock looked up at the tone of the doctors' voice and he mirrored the older mans' smile.

"My uncle, he lived there – left me the land and house…its' nothing luxurious." The taller of the two stated lightly, furrowing his brow. "But its quiet".

"Sounds perfect" John said, his teeth displaying themselves as his uncontrollable smile extended. "Thank you, Sherlock" he said before taking a step forward and placing a feather light kiss to his husbands lips.

"You took to this amazingly well, John" Sherlock mused with a raised eyebrow.

"Took to what?" John asked, still smiling.

"The change from friendship to relationship was easier for you than I had calculated. I had thought you would have some sort of breakdown at the idea of a holiday with me in Quebec, yet you didn't, you still went through with it even though I published our intentions on your own blog. I find the results…rather curious." Sherlock finished, finishing his Champaign.

John sighed heavily and loosened his necktie.

"Tell me this wasn't an experiment, Sherlock" John whispered tiredly.

"Of sorts" Sherlock murmured, avoiding John's eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Are you telling me that none of this is real?" John asked dully, his once wounded shoulder starting to ache.

"It wasn't supposed to be" Sherlock said truthfully. "But, I find myself…When I started taking the rings, the suits, the flowers…it was merely the fact that I was bored and wanted to prove how inefficient the Police force is. When you were working it out, I realised that I could conduct a social experiment by telling you that I took those things for us. But from the very first kiss you gave me, I realised that I do love you and would do anything for you." Sherlock finished, looking back to his flatmate with a slightly bleary eyed expression.

John didn't say anything immediately, he just allowed the gaze between them to continue. Eventually, John removed Sherlock's glass and placed it on the table behind him before taking his hand and leading him out onto the grass beside the speakers.

As a familiar song struck the surrounding walls and John easily brought Sherlock closer, wrapping his free hand around the taller mans' ever slim waist.

Sherlock, a little lost opted for freeing his right hand from the doctors' and wrapping them around John's neck instead, essentially folding them with his upper arms resting on John's strong shoulders, as he was the perfect height to do so.

John smiled; wrapping his own arms now tightly around the younger mans' waist and leaning up to kiss his husband.

Slowly, the guests started to notice the two smartly dressed men on the lawn outside the tent, dancing only slightly on the short cut grass in the afternoons' sunshine.

"I'm sure this is supposed to be done at night, John" Sherlock murmured, resting his forehead upon the doctors'.

"We don't have to hide" John whispered, his eyes closed as he turned them round slowly.

They danced the rest of the song in silence, simply listening to the lyrics and sharing short kisses.

"Who sings this?" John asked after a while, opening his eyes and leaning back slightly to look into Sherlock's lighter than light grey eyes.

"Do you like it?" Sherlock asked with a smile.

"Yes, although, it is a re-make, it fits us nicely, don't you think?" John replied.

"Yes, it rather does." Sherlock murmured, now resting his cheek against John's hairline as was easier to do at his height.

The song continued; the male singers' voice low and relaxing in the warm summer's air.

What a difference a day made, twenty four little hours  
Brought the sun and the flowers where there use to be rain  
My yesterday was blue dear  
Today I'm a part of you dear  
My lonely nights are through dear  
Since you said you were mine  
Oh, what a difference a day made  
There's a rainbow before me  
Skies above can't be stormy since that moment of bliss  
That thrilling kiss  
It's heaven when you find romance on your menu  
What a difference a day made  
And the difference is you, is you

As the song drew to a close, the two men stopped their dancing and simply held each other until the next song started.

"Should I dance with Mycroft?" John asked timidly.

"Why?" Sherlock asked incredulously.

"He looks sad" John replied honestly as he spied Mycroft over Sherlock's shoulder.

"Do you really think dancing will lighten him?" Sherlock queried dully.

"I dunno, maybe" John mused. "Go dance with Harry, and behave yourself. I'm enjoying today – do not give me reason not to!" John chastised with a lingering kiss to punctuate his sentence.

Sherlock smirked as he watched John walk toward the tent, weaving between the other dancing couples that had joined them on the grass.

"Mycroft" John started confidently. "Please, will you do me the traditional honour of dancing with the…bride?" the doctor said with a giddy laugh.

"If either, John, you would most definitely be the groom" Mycroft mused with a rather forced smile.

"Beside the point" John dismissed, making it clear that it wasn't an option Mycroft could turn down.

"Oh alright then" Mycroft caved, much to John's surprise and guiltily; his delight.

Dancing with Mycroft Holmes was rather pleasant, John mused as he was delicately twirled and held.

"Why did you look sad before, Mycroft?" John asked bravely.

"The Holmes family have always been an exception" Mycroft started, talking slowly and quietly, holding John expertly. "We have been taught since we were young that emotions only clouded our judgement. Sentiment was always a bad and terrible thing; it is simple physics that if a person is emotionally compromised, a clear headed person can always beat them. My brother is capable of so much, and not always for the better cause. I only hope, John, that he does not hurt you. If he does, there will be a reason for it I assure you." Mycroft now smiled down at John with what the physician saw to be a genuine smile and he replied with his own.

"Thank you, Mycroft. I will always look after him and you can always feel free to pop by Baker Street. Anytime" John said quietly. "I'm not taking him away from you" he added in a whisper.

Mycroft's smile fell from his lips as he stared incredulously down at Sherlock's husband.

"You forget that I have been with Sherlock for five years, I can read his body language and his facial expressions as if they were an open book, and you Mycroft, are very similar to him. Now, I think you should let down your silly barriers like your brother; allow yourself to live – you might just enjoy it." John said quietly adding a sweet smile.

"John. I have underestimated you" Mycroft said with difficulty.

"Come here, brother" John said in a motherly fashion as he wrapped his arms around the taller man and pulled him close. Mycroft let out a small laugh at the surprise and after a moment he returned the hug rather awkwardly.

Across the lawn, Sherlock stared in shock at his brother embracing his husband.

"John always could get along with anyone" Harry mused in her rough Londoners accent.

"My brother could not" Sherlock said, a small twitch playing about his bow shaped lips.

When John released Mycroft, Sherlock did the same with Harriet; excusing himself politely. The consulting detective raised his right hand to his hair and swept his fringe back ever so lightly, his other hand finding a home in his suit trouser pocket.

John walked in the direction that he had last seen his sister dancing with Sherlock. Couples stopped him on the makeshift dance floor to congratulate him again and it was a good ten minutes before the crowds had dispersed enough for his dark eyes to settle on what he wanted to see.

Standing in an empty part of the lawn with the sun beaming down on his spotless silver full suite suit; stood John's husband. Sherlock was squinting slightly and the sunshine was exposing his hair for all to see as its' true auburn-black. John immediately thanked whatever gods were in charge for making him the luckiest man in the world.

John stopped short of the taller man who had his hands tucked behind his back as he surveyed the physician; a small smile playing about his bow shaped lips.

"Mycroft hugged you" Sherlock stated sternly.

"I guess the Holmes' boys must just love me" John laughed as he threw his hands up in hopelessness.

Sherlock smiled widely, displaying a hint of well kept teeth.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Later that evening, the crowd had assembled to cheer the couple as they got into their rented 4x4. Sherlock waved as he drove away from the registrar's offices and toward their Baker Street flat.

"Sherlock" John said slowly, turning his body to face Sherlock from the passenger seat.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked, seemingly unable to remove the smile from his lips.

"What time is the flight?" he asked lightly.

"Whenever you want it to be, John." Sherlock said as he pulled up into a parking space.

"What?" John asked in confusion.

"You heard Mycroft, there is no tourism industry in Bunguran Timur. We have a private plane and personal pilot on standby for whenever we want to go." Sherlock said absent-mindedly as he opened the door and stood out onto the street.

"So, we could go…tomorrow?" John asked shyly as he looked up toward Sherlock.

The consulting detective leaned on the driver's seat to look closely at his husband.

"We could go tomorrow if you wanted" He said lightly.

"Good. Race you to the bedroom" John teased as he quickly hopped out onto the road and in through the door of 221B to sprint up the stairs and into Sherlock's bedroom with a bang.

Sherlock, on the other hand, remained at the land rover, staring blankly at the last place John had been in.

He heard, rather than saw, the familiar heels of Irene Adler clicking up the pavement behind him with some clarity.

"Really, Sherlock? The little Doctorover me?" She teased slowly as she ran a hand up the grey suit jacket that Sherlock currently wore.

"Ms Adler, it is not time." The taller said, stepping back and closing the door of the vehicle with some velocity.

"When will it be time, Sherlock?" The English woman asked. "And why did you tell him I was dead. Not very _fair_ Sherlock" she teased.

"When Moriarty returns it will be time. Although, I am having second thoughts" Sherlock mused with a glance toward the front door of 221B. "I couldn't leave him; not now. Things are different. I need him as he needs me"

"Then you have your answer" She mused with a smile. "Call me if you have need of me; all I can tell you is that he will choose to throw you from a rooftop if he can, Sherlock; he will make sure that there is no way out" She stated as she stepped back delicately and pulled her unnecessary furs tighter around her head as she disappeared into the darkness.

Sherlock ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he watched after her. Sherlock knew what lay ahead of them. He knew that Moriarty would be back, and when he was, his plan to fake his death would be needed he was sure of it. Maybe, when the time came, he would take John with him; maybe they would go and live in Bunguran Timur in his Uncles' old house. Only Mycroft would know, and from there, Sherlock could keep John safe.

Idly thinking about the possibility of fixing up a strong broadband connection from his uncles' house, Sherlock smiled as he headed into their flat; happy in the knowledge that when the inevitable happened; he would have a plan ready and a husband that would do anything for him at his side.

_**The End**_


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